


Tell Me That I'm Alright

by homobirb



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-07-13 00:11:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16006202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/homobirb/pseuds/homobirb
Summary: Akechi breaks into a million pieces.Akira's there to pick them up.Spoilers through the seventh palace.





	Tell Me That I'm Alright

**Author's Note:**

> Akechi's characterization is heavily inspired by his portrayal in YouTube user 23ixx's part in a Female Robbery MEP.
> 
> Link to the part here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EAtzUlXw8dI
> 
> Link to the entire MEP here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g2Nwbde863c

Akechi whips around, firing a shot into his cognitive double, then discharges another bullet towards the emergency button. The bulkhead door takes 10 seconds for it to rise -- Akechi knows this, knows it'll be enough time that the Phantom Thieves won't be able to rescue him -- and yet, the announcement sputters to a stop. The bulkhead door isn't rising. It takes Akechi four seconds to look up, three seconds to notice all the Phantom Thieves are unmoving, two seconds to see Joker's mouth quirk into a smirk, and one to realize his plan has been ruined.

There's a powerful blow to his back that sends him flying over where the thieves are situated. Joker effortlessly catches him before he falls flat on his face, holding the detective tightly to his chest. Akechi closes his eyes and breaths for three seconds, before pushing against the Phantom Thief leader, untangling himself from his grip.

The bulkhead closes behind him. He lets himself stagger backward until he hits the solid metal, clutching onto his side -- one of the attacks from their previous battle mere minutes before must've swiped him harder than he thought.

Okumura is the first to react. "Akechi, are you alright?"

     "No." His eyes dart between them, taking in their concerned, confused expressions, before settling on Joker. "You..." He pushes himself off of the wall and limps over to him. Akechi is only able to get out the words, "You ruined everything," before he collapses and the world turns dark.

\- - -

He jerks awake, sitting up before he's able to process all of his muscles screaming. Akechi counts to fifteen until the pain subsides, shutting his eyes tight and focusing on breathing evenly. His last breath is an even stronger inhale, which he holds for one, two, three, and releases it out his mouth. It takes all of ten seconds to realize he's not in his own apartment.

Nonetheless, he is in familiar, albeit perhaps unwelcome, territory, alone. He vaguely recalls several Phantom Thieves meetings occurring here, in Kurusu's attic-turned-bedroom. The group had always been rambunctious, quick to pull Akechi in and make him feel like he belonged. Even after he wronged them.

_Even after he wronged them._

The memories come flooding back -- his betrayal, his murder of Kurusu, his confronting the very-much-alive group in Shido's palace, Kurusu somehow _fucking up his plans again._ He wasn't entirely sure who -- or what -- was responsible for pushing him past the barrier of the bulkhead door and into safety, but he could conclude with absolute certainty that Kurusu had something to do with it.

His fists grasp at the heavy sheets covering him. Without hesitation, he throws them off and swings his legs over the side of the bed. It only takes seven seconds for the pain the dim into a modest throb, twinges he could easily ignore. It's at this time that he realizes he's not wearing his own clothes. His body is adorned in a plain white t-shirt, with blue plaid pajama pants. One point five seconds gives him enough time to check -- yup, he's (thankfully) still wearing his own boxers.

Akechi gives himself a couple minutes to casually look for anything in the room that could give him clues on his current situation. His clothes are nowhere to be found. His eyes catch on the large print draped over Kurusu's couch, the black, white, and red Phantom Thief logo emblazed in the center. Tacky, he thinks to himself.

The room is otherwise unnoteworthy. The desk in the corner is clear and the shelves next to the bed are brimming with various souvenirs.

He doesn't see his shoes, nor any spare pairs of socks, so he continues his investigation by treading down the attic stairs barefoot.

Akechi stops one step before the floor of the café and peers past the wall. It's surprisingly empty, except for Mr. Sakura tending to the bar. Without preamble, he wanders into sight and sits on the middle stool.

     "Ah, you're finally awake," the café owner says, a tiny smile on his face. The detective just stares at him, trying to calculate just how much the man across from him knows. How much the man would likely hate him.

Mr. Sakura sighs. "Well, I suppose it's only natural to be confused. Hell, I was, too, when that guy brought you in unconscious." He turns and tends to the stove; there's several pots, one boiling uncovered, one covered. It takes three seconds to recognize the smells in the air -- curry, and coffee.

The man places a plate of curry and rice in front of the detective. Several seconds later, there's a coffee cup accompanying it. Akechi looks back and forth between Mr. Sakura and the meal in front of him. "I don't..." he starts.

Mr. Sakura waves his hand. "It's on the house."

Akechi can only nod before taking a small bite of the curry. The flavor explodes in his mouth and his stomach growls, reminding Akechi that he is absolutely famished. Ten minutes later and the plate is empty, Akechi comfortably full. The café owner takes the plate from him, while Akechi picks up the coffee cup to sip at the cooling liquid.

He doesn't notice Mr. Sakura pick up the TV remote, doesn't even register that the television is turned on and the channel is set to the news. "He told me you might want to see this." The man's words nearly jolt Akechi from his stupor; luckily, his grasp on his cup is tight enough to not send the porcelain to an early death on the floor. His head swivels towards the television set, setting his now-empty mug back on the counter.

It's the Phantom Thieves.

More accurately, it's a calling card.

For _Shido._

Neither of them say a word, merely taking in the video. Tears are rolling down his cheeks by the end. He can't stop the heaving sobs that shake his body, the breath that keeps catching in his throat. He's a blubbering mess, snot dripping out of his nose and over his mouth, eyes barely blinking fast enough to see through the tears.

Akechi barely notices the café owner walking out from behind the bar. He doesn't expect it when the older man wraps his arms around him, but the detective quickly accepts it in favor of turning his head and burying his face into Mr. Sakura's black apron and bawling into the fabric. There's a soft, encouraging pat on his head, then another several moments later.

He doesn't know how long it takes him to calm down. Mr. Sakura holds him for awhile, not saying anything, and lets him cry until Akechi is unable to cry no more, at which point the older man releases him. He makes his way back behind the bar while Akechi tries to wipe away the remainder of the mess on his face with the backs of his hands.

Akechi is given a tall glass of water -- which he downs in several gulps -- and told by the man to "lock up." The detective figures it just means locking the door after the café owner leaves, and does so, after Mr. Sakura nods at him as a goodbye. He doesn't bother arguing about where he was supposed to stay; Shido most likely has already sent people to ransack his apartment after his disappearance, people that would readily cut his head off and offer his lifeless body to appease the soon-to-be-changed man that was his own father.

His limbs feel super heavy as he climbs back up the stairs. It takes all of his effort to make it to the bed before he collapses onto it, curling up in the sheets as sleep overtakes him.

\- - -

Akechi wakes to the sun on his face. His body feels less heavy, his mind a smidge clearer, the pain mostly gone from his muscles. There's a small weight leaning on his legs -- a single glance tells him it's a cat, most likely Morgana due to both his markings and the fact that they were both in Kurusu's bedroom.

It takes him two seconds to look around the room. It's still the same as last night, except for the addition of Morgana sleeping next to him and the figure of a teenage boy sitting at the desk.

He slips his legs out from under the blankets, careful not to disturb the snoozing cat, and carefully wanders over to where Kurusu is seated. The Phantom Thieves leader is tinkering with something -- a lockpick, Akechi realizes. Tin clasps are already bent into shape; Kurusu loops the silk yarn around the metal picks and ties it tightly into several small knots. With no pause, the teenager puts the lockpick to the side, in a small, growing pile of lockpicks, and pulls out more materials.

The detective opens his mouth, to say something, say _anything_ to break the too comfortable silence, but no sound escapes him. He can't find the right words. What should you say to someone after they saved you from certain death, after you had already tried several times to kill them? Akechi shook his head to try to physically clear his thoughts. Idly, he sits down on the couch next to the desk and nearly wrings his hands. His eyes follow every movement of the Phantom Thief, finding a small comfort in the fact that Kurusu does not stop making lockpicks, even after he's certainly seen the teen on his couch.

It's four minutes until Kurusu catches his gaze. Setting down the lockpick-in-progress, he offers a small smile. "Morning."

The simple greeting catches Akechi off-guard. He searches in the thief's eyes for several moments, before resigning with a simple, "Good morning."

There's a pause that lasts several beats. The detective sighs. "Look, I-"

     "You don't mind having curry for breakfast, do you?

Akechi startles as the sound of the Phantom Thieves leader cutting him off, reflexively biting his lip. He squeezes his eyes shut and counts the seconds - one, two, three, four, five, six, seven -- until he realizes that Kurusu isn't moving. He peeks open one eye to see that the teen hadn't moved from his chair, merely watching him with a curious expression.

     "Curry is fine." The detective turns his body away from him and hugs his knees to his chest.

Neither of them speak again for another eight minutes. Akechi doesn't dare turn to check, but from the sounds of it, Kurusu has gone back to making lockpicks. Still unable to think of the correct words, he instead tries to think over all the events of the previous year, of the years since he discovered the Metaverse. The long nights come flashing back to him: the screams of his muscles, pushed to the max; the taste of blood so often in his mouth; various cuts oozing, the scabs on new ones often breaking open; bruises along his skin like freckles. He can't -- he has to breathe, one, two, three, in, four, five, six, out. He tries to think of anything to replace the nightmare on repeat in his mind. The first thing to pop into his head is the calling card. _The calling card._

Akechi spins around to face Kurusu again and asks without hesitation, "Did you do it." The words come out more accusatory than he intended, but he needs to know.

The teen perks an eyebrow. "Do what?"

     "The calling card. Did he have a change of heart."

Kurusu gives him a small smile. "Yes."

\- - -

Akechi doesn't realize he's crying again until Kurusu hands him a wad of tissues. He wipes away at the salty liquid covering his cheeks and blows his nose meekly into one. His fingers tighten around the tissues when a large sob wrecks his body. Kurusu moves to sit on the couch and takes a pliant Akechi into his arms, one hand resting at the back of his head, the other beginning to make slow circles on the detective's back.

Kurusu just holds him, occasionally petting Akechi's hair, letting Akechi just bawl into his shirt. The detective makes no attempt at removing himself from Kurusu's touch; instead, he leans further in, trying to hide his face, finding comfort in the heavy warmth of Kurusu's body.

They sit like that until Akechi's tears fully dry and his body no longer shakes under the strength of the sobs. Akechi can feel, almost hear, Kurusu's heartbeat. He counts the steady beats, one, two, three ...

     "Better?" Kurusu asks him. Akechi nods into his shoulder -- he had counted up to four hundred and thirty nine heartbeats before Kurusu pulled him back to reality. "That's good. Want me to go down to grab you a bowl of curry?"

He doesn't want to let go. The warmth from Kurusu's body had just barely started soaking into his muscles, hadn't even touched the ever-present chill in Akechi's bones. But, he forces himself to pull back and the way Kurusu's limbs just _let go_ stings even more.

Kurusu hands him a couple more tissues and disappears without fanfare, down the stairs and into the café.

Morgana stirs on the bed, rolling over before getting up and stretching his limbs out. His eyes scan the room until they settle on Akechi. Without pause, he jumps off the bed and pads over to sit in front of the detective, on the floor. The cat narrows his eyes, then closes them and shakes his head. "I hope you realize this is your final chance. We won't be able to help you if you betray us again."

Akechi doesn't know what to say, so he just nods.

     "And if you ever try to kill him again... I will personally come to claw out your eyeballs."

     "Morgana." Kurusu, equipped with a tray holding a plate of curry and a mug with what is most likely coffee, reappears from the stairs. "I thought we talked about this."

     "But, Akira! He tried to shoot you in the face!"

Kurusu places the tray of food on Akechi's lap, then turns to face the cat on the floor. "Morgana," he says, even more sternly than the previous time. They stare at each other for twelve seconds (Akechi counted) before Morgana breaks eye contact and starts to walk away.

     "Fine. I'm going to stay with Futaba. Don't come crying to me if he tries to hurt you again."

And with that, Morgana leaves. Kurusu lets out a small sigh and goes to sit back at the desk. His fingers quickly pick up the lockpick materials again.

Akechi sips at the coffee Kurusu brought him. It's a tad more bitter than the cup he had last night, but Akechi doesn't comment, merely drinking the caffeinated liquid in silence.

Neither of them speak until Akechi's finished his plate of curry. Kurusu has moved onto tinkering with Megido Bombs, working on his third when he says, "I heard you got snot on Sojiro's apron last night."

     "Oh? I ought to go apologize then."

     "Nah, don't worry about it. Although he'd never admit it, I think he's happy he was able to be there for you." The Phantom Thief leader pauses his crafting. He stretches his arms up high, then leans back in his chair and rests his fingers, intertwined, at the back of his head. "He seemed to be in a much better mood today than last night when I left." A soft smile appears on his face.

     "I see."

Kurusu looks to him. "Hey, are you feeling alright? To talk, I mean."

     "About?"

     "Everything." Kurusu stands up and wanders over to his bookshelf. He picks up a swan boat, inspecting it, before placing it gently back on the shelf. "Frankly, I think it would be a good idea for you to stay here, for the time being."

He turns to peer at Akechi when he doesn't respond. "I just think, with the probable fallout from Shido's change of heart, to public opinion, to-"

     "Kurusu-kun." Akechi stands. "I didn't say no."

The Phantom Thief visibly relaxes. "Call me Akira? I think we're past formalities here."

     "Akira..." Akechi tries out the name. It feels right on his tongue. "Feel free to use my first name as well."

Akira nods. There's a heavy, pregnant pause between them, Akira having gone back to looking at the items on his bookcase and Akechi not knowing what to do. "Um," he starts, grabbing onto the hem of his shirt and fiddling with it. "I wanted to apologize for all that's happened. I thought-" Akechi takes a moment to swallow his nerves. "I thought my death would be apt penance for my being on the wrong side. For all the people I killed.

     "I don't know how exactly it happened, but as I am visibly still alive, it seems my plan has failed. I really don't know how I'm ever going to be able to repay your kindness, but if there's anyway possible I could ease your burdens, please, do not hesitate to tell me."

A moment passes before Akira replies, "Arsene."

     "Excuse me?"

Akira turns around. "He's my persona. He, uh, kicked you. Before you could..." Akechi hears the implied _before you could kill yourself_ behind Akira's gesturing hands.

     "Thank you." Akechi gives a soft smile, which is apparently enough for Akira, as he beams back.

That night, they eat take out sushi. Akira takes him to the public bath and washes his hair for him, and after they soak together in the steaming tub, he gives him a set of clean pajamas to wear.

Since the couch is too small to fit either of them comfortably, it is decided that they will share the bed. Akechi crawls under the covers first, facing the wall, Akira sliding in after him. The thief's arm naturally comes around Akechi's waist and he feels himself relaxing backward, until his back hits Akira's chest.

     "Akira?"

     "Hmm?"

Akechi doesn't respond right away. He tries to think of the words, the right words to say to the boy cuddled up behind him. "Thank you." He sighs and rests his hand atop Akira's.

     "It's okay, Goro."

He falls into a restful sleep.

\- - -

     "You're headed out?" Akechi asks. Akira was dressed, heading for the stairs, when Akechi blinks awake. Morgana, tucked in his duffel bag, peers at him.

     "Yeah."

     "Come back safely."

Akira lets a small smile crack on his lips and says, "I will," before he turns back and walks down the stairs.

Seven minutes pass before Akechi decided to get up. Mr. Sakura fixes him a meager breakfast of curry, rice, and coffee, on the house again. He thanks him for the meal and heads back up to the attic. Akira's clothes are packed in a drawer under his bed. Akira's _clean_ clothes, he corrects himself; there are several different piles of dirty clothes spread around the room, one under the desk, one near the TV, and one in a corner near the stairs.

Sighing, he begins to gather up the dirty laundry into one large pile in the center of the floor, the clothes he was wearing before infiltrating Shido's palace curiously missing. He strips and adds his own worn clothes to the pile, before digging into Akira's clean clothes and borrowing red sweatpants, a black turtleneck, and a grey sweatshirt. He doesn't even think about borrowing underwear, so he goes commando.

He puts the hood of the sweatshirt up before he swiftly deposits the dirty laundry into a hamper and drags it down the stairs. Akechi waves to Mr. Sakura, who merely quirks an eyebrow and nods, before he leaves Leblanc and crosses the alleyway to the laundromat.

The rest of the day Akechi spends doing various chores. Once the laundry is finished and put away, he starts dusting all the surfaces and then mopping the floor.

Exhausted, he flops onto the couch with a book from Akira's desk -- _Ghost Encounters._ He's about halfway through when Akira returns. "You clean up?"

     "Yes," Akechi says, eyes never leaving the book.

     "Thank you. I appreciate it, Goro."

Goro doesn't respond. He's in the middle of a tense chapter; the protagonist has just gotten trapped in a room with a locked exit, with a poisonous gas trap set off.

Akira doesn't seem to mind. He sets his bag down on a table, letting Morgana hop out, and takes off his jacket to hang it on the back of the desk chair. "Have you figured out the mystery yet?"

The detective snorts. "It's quite obvious."

     "Enlighten me."

     "Okay." Goro folds down the top right corner of the page he's on, then places the book next to him on the couch. "The family doctor is attempting to cover up the murder of the main character's twin during their childhood, which the main character witnessed. Their brain suppressed the memory and in an attempt to both control them and systematically subvert any chance of being taken seriously by police, the doctor has been giving them dosages of phencyclidine. The ghosts are nothing more than hallucinations of the deceased twin."

The black haired teen quirks an eyebrow. "How do you know the doctor is the murderer?"

     "Oh, please. He has all the characteristics of a manipulative psychopath, along with several indisputable attempts upon the main character's life."

     "Impressive, detective."

Akechi blushes. "It's only self-evident, given the adverse symptoms of the main character coinciding with the doctor's visit. Once you figure out the means of the crimes, the motive becomes clear."

     "Remind me to never commit a crime near you."

     "Duly noted."

This night, Akira's brought food from Big Bang Burgers. While eating, Akira tells him stories about all the people he's helped: the doctor at a nearby clinic, the ex-Yakuza model gun salesman and his adoptive son, a Shogi champion whose talent was mere behind-the-scenes manipulation, the earnest fortune teller in Shinjuku. He uses fries to act out the confrontation between one of his teachers and the couple that was extorting her, then bites the (presumably) heads off the two. Akechi finds himself letting more loose than normal; he giggles, laughs, smiles, until his face almost cramps up. He helps to clean up and then set up three chairs for them to watch a movie. It's a romantic comedy, one Akechi's never seen before -- his viewing habits are unsurprisingly lackluster, having had no free time between school, detective work, and work as Shido's personal assassin.

Only twenty minutes pass before Akira's hand finds his. He lets his hand become intertwined with Akira's, finding comfort in the gesture.

The movie's almost finished when Akira turns to him and squeezes his hand. "Akechi..." he sighs. The detective looks to him and sees the pleased smile on his face. "I'm really happy you're here with me."

     "Me, too." Akechi's response comes out in a small whisper. He unconsciously leans forward and the thief mirrors it, glancing down at his lips.

Their mouths meet. The kiss is gentle at first, as if Akira is hesitant to push any further. But Akechi's hand runs through the hair on the back of his head and _tugs,_ and Akira's nearly mewling into his mouth. He takes the opportunity to unlatch their fingers and use his newly free hand to cup at Akira's cheek. His tongue pokes at the black haired teen's lips and is immediately granted entry. Akechi groans when he feels Akira's tongue sliding against his, and he tries to pull closer, leaning over in his seat until he's nearly on Akira's lap.

     "Eww, guys." Akechi pulls back, nearly panting, to find Morgana siting up right in his chair, tail thumping against the back of the seat. "If you're gonna do that, can you at least let me leave?"

Akira gets up to unlock the café door for Morgana. Instead of sitting and stewing in his thoughts until Akira returns, Akechi decides to put the chairs up against the railing and shut off the TV, the movie already having been finished.

     "Sorry 'bout that," Akira says, walking up the stairs.

     "Who's Morgana staying with tonight?"

     "He said something about seeing if Haru still had any fatty tuna left over from the last time he went over. Knowing her, she probably keeps the stuff regularly stocked in anticipation of his visits." Akira sighs, scratching the back of his head. "I'm also sorry about touching you without asking. I really shouldn't be pushing you so soon."

     "No, it's quite alright. I actually enjoyed it."

     "Oh?" Akira steps forward.

Akechi mirrors the action. "Now, if you don't mind, I'd prefer to continue where we left off." He surges forward and grabs at Akira's face, bringing their lips back together. The kiss turns filthy in a fraction of a second; Akira's hands roam across his body, from the back of Akechi's neck to his chest, from his shoulders to his lower back, his tongue a heavy weight in Akechi's mouth.

They step towards the bed in tandem, pausing occasionally for Akira to pull off Akechi's sweatshirt and for Akechi to tug at Akira's belt. Akechi swiftly turns them around and pushes Akira onto the bed. He slides onto Akira's hips, straddling him. "God, Goro. You're so cute." Akira nearly slurs his words, Akechi grinding his hips down. The teen below him grasps onto Akechi's hips, pulling him down to meet his hips even harder. "So freakin' beautiful."

Akechi tugs down Akira's zipper and promptly slides his hand into the teen's boxers, fingers wrapping loosely around his cock. Akira lets out a soft sigh at the touch. He starts to pull the sweatpants on Akechi's hips down until the detective's dick springs free. "I don't know what's hotter: you not wearing underwear or the idea of you in my boxers."

     "Ngh, maybe I'll wear some for you tomorrow." Akira tugs his pants down his hips, then holds both of their cocks together and starts to slowly pump them. "Any other suggestions?"

     "I think I'd be really happy if just both of us were naked right now. I know, that's really kinky of me to say."

The detective pauses, then bursts out laughing. Akira joins him, pulling his hand away.

     "You're filthier than I thought, Akira. Really? Sex, without clothes? What kind of madman are you?"

     "The good kind," the raven assures him. Akechi pulls himself off of the bed to fully kick off his sweatpants and shirk off his leftover shirt, while Akira takes the time to shimmy his pants down his hips and unbutton his shirt. "Mind grabbing the bottle behind the sushi mug?"

The bottle turns out to be lubricant. Akechi returns to his spot on top of Akira, leaning over and capturing his lips in a kiss.

     "How far do you want to go?" Akira whispers against his mouth.

     "I want to ride you."

     "God, Goro, that's-" Akechi's hand grabs at his dick; Akira lets out a low groan. "I-I have no objections."

     "Good."

Removing his hands from the body below him, the detective sits back and opens the bottle, squirting out a decent sized glob on his hands and thoroughly coating three fingers. He puts his free hand on Akira's shoulder and leans into him, just enough for him to better reach behind him. Akechi slips in one finger to the first knuckle.

     "Dinner _and_ a show? Wow, I'm really lucky." The Phantom Thief below him grins, letting his hands roam all over Akechi's chest. A thumb rolls his right nipple, then gives a light pinch. Akechi lets out a small moan, though he isn't sure whether that's from the administrations to his chest or the fact that he's just added another finger. He scissors his fingers inside of himself until he's able to add a third; his fingers curl and he finds himself letting out more lewd moans, twisting his wrist ever so slightly to better hit the spot inside of him that sends him into utter bliss.

     "Akira..." The name escapes him with a sigh. "I think I'm ready for you." He pulls out his fingers and squirts more lubricant onto his hand. He grasps Akira's dick without preamble and Akira's hips involuntarily jerk upwards into his fist. Once the raven is thoroughly coated, Akechi wipes his hand of the excess onto the bedspread, earning a small "hey" from the boy under him. "I'll wash it tomorrow," he promises.

He raises his hips and grips the base of Akira's cock. Akira's hands are back on his hips again, helping him to steadily lower down. Akechi sinks down until his rear hits against Akira's hips. The raven below him lets out a low whine and throws his head back. "God, you're so tight. Fuuuuuck."

Akechi takes a deep breath. "That's what we're doing," he says, a small smile on his face. He raises his hips a couple inches and slams back down. The force knocks a moan free from his lips.

The pace he sets is almost brutal, hips nearly bouncing up and down. He leans forward to kiss Akira again, who greedily licks into his mouth and holds his hips tight enough to bruise. "Goro, Goro, Goro," he chants. "You're so good. You feel so good. So, so good."

     "Akira," he whispers.

     "Yeah?"

     " _Fuck me._ "

It's like a switch is flipped in Akira. Holding tight onto Akechi, he rolls them over until Akechi's back hits the bed. He pulls almost entirely out and slams back into the detective. Akechi's almost sure he sees stars. Akira's face finds Akechi's neck, licking and biting at the sensitive skin, and Akechi nearly melts in his arms. The raven's hips shift slightly and he brushes up against the bundle of nerves inside of him. He lets out a particularly loud mewl, ankles coming up to cross behind Akira, hands grasping for purchase on his back, angling his neck to allow Akira better access. Seemingly encouraged by his noises, Akira aims his hips again and hits Akechi's prostate repeatedly.

     "C-close," he sputters out in between moans. Akira pulls back just slightly, to kiss at Akechi's face. A hand reaches between them and latches onto Akechi's cock. The touch pushes him over the edge, gasping into Akira's mouth, his dick spurting come onto both their chests. A couple thrusts later and Akira's grunting, pushing in as deep as he can go before coming.

They lay like that for awhile, Akira still inside of Akechi, the raven's head resting upon his chest and Akechi's hands holding him close.

     "Hey, Akira?"

     "Hm?" He can feel the hum against his chest; he lets out a sigh of contentment.

     "I think I'm starting to fall for you."

Akira's silent for a few moments, making Akechi immediately regret the confession. Was that too soon to say? Would he kick him out in a fit of disgust? He tries to breathe and count, one, two, three, four-

     "Good, 'cause I'm already in love with you."

And Akechi can breathe again. He feels a smile form on his face. "Let's get cleaned up then, yeah?"

**Author's Note:**

> The average human's resting heart rate is between 60 and 100 bpm (beats per minute). Assuming Akira's is around 65 bpm (he does often physically exerts himself in the Metaverse, so he must be more physically fit than average, which thus should place his resting heart rate on the lower end of the scale as his heart doesn't have to work as hard to pump blood through his body) and assuming that Akechi doesn't miss a single beat, then that works out to 439 beats divided by 65 bpm, giving us 6.75 minutes. Of course, if we do assume Akechi misses, on average, every other beat, the time doubles to 13.5 minutes.


End file.
